Retreat
Sensory Poem
Coffee in the morning
Red wine in the evening
Sunset out the window
Starlight on the ceiling
ā¢
Thereās nothing more precious than being alive
With even just one sense, let alone five
ā¢
Fireplace embers throwing a spark
Fireflies dancing their dance in the dark
ā¢
Itās subtle and primal, the magic of things
The whirring of crickets, the flutter of wings
ā¢
Lantern at midnight
Soft wind at dusk
Blue mist at twilight
That personās sweet musk
ā¢
Wonder can heal, and wonders never cease
The world has a heartbeat; our senses bring peace
About the Creator
Joelle Eš
There is gold in every piece of your story āØ
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Smartystan
Rain didnāt stop Mala. Swaddling for Edgar covered the baby boyās body and she held her other sonās, Burton, six-year-old hand. The mud, muck, and mire didnāt hinder her from staying on course with her mission. From Pennsylvania, they all trekked to get closer and closer to land that was never promised but simply implied. Each step produced more mud caked around her sneakers. She didnāt care. Her rucksack provided them protein packs to put into plastic bottles and nuts and berries and dried meats to keep their muscles in good health. Water hydrated. She rested. The baby had been asleep the entire time that she had started her journey and her eldest son remained silent throughout the excursion as well.
By Skyler Saunders6 days ago in Chapters
Comments (1)
That last line outstanding ā¤ļø